


Distracting

by delightedgurgle



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, like SLIGHT daddy kink I promise you can almost pretend it's not there if you want, personally I prefer "mouth-fucking" but I'm not gonna be picky about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightedgurgle/pseuds/delightedgurgle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<i>You know, I really shouldn't be this nice to you and spoil you every time you come in here and whine.</i>"</p><p>Haise kitty-slinks his fine, pinstriped ass into Arima's office and proceeds to be an annoying brat until he gets his way. Just a lil bidda "what does the CCG feed Haise?" smut with an exceptionally boring title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distracting

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is kindof ooc for Haise but sometimes you gotta do it for the kink, you know.
> 
> Also, forgive me if some of this reads choppy. I'm just trying to deliver porn in the most concise way possible. Hope you like.
> 
> Tumblr and twitter shit at the bottom.

Haise slips into Arima’s office and surreptitiously locks the door behind him.

“Haise,” Arima says, gesturing for him to sit without looking up from the document on his desk.

Haise walks in slowly, pretending to be very interested in all the random shit on the walls and shelves of the office. He passes the chair and instead stands directly in front of Arima’s desk, reaching out to poke curiously at miscellaneous objects like a cat trying to get its owner’s attention. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. It isn’t that he feels uncomfortable; He feels restless. He represses the compulsion to pick up Arima’s name tag and tap it obnoxiously on the desk. Instead, he straightens it a little, now bouncing on his heels.

Arima sighs. He can guess what this visit is about.

“What is it, Haise.”

“I’m hungry.” There is a somewhat childish lilt in his voice.

Arima looks up from his paperwork. 

“It’s the middle of the day. Can’t this wait? Don’t you have work to do?”

Haise scratches at his chin and shakes his head, smiling innocently.

“Well I do,” Arima says flatly, turning back to the report he’s (supposed to be) reading.

Haise leans over the desk and tilts his head, pretending to read the first few lines on the page Arima is on. He swirls his fingertip over the paper slowly, intentionally trying to distract him.

“Looks tiring. Why don’t you take a break?”

“No.”

Haise huffs a little impatiently. 

“It’ll be quick I promise,” he says. The innocent tone of his voice doesn’t match the look on his face at all. He reaches out and runs his finger up and down the length of the pen in Arima’s hand, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “and I think you like it anyway..”

Arima keeps his eyes fixed downward. If he looks at Haise’s flushed face, his half-lidded eyes, his slightly parted lips… ( _fuck_ ) it’ll be more difficult to ignore him. 

Haise leans in closer over the desk and--keeping his eyes on Arima for even the slightest reaction--holds the pen in place with a delicate finger and slowly licks the length of it. 

“No,” Arima says, pulling the pen away. It sounds like he’s reprimanding a child. He clenches his jaw almost imperceptibly, but Haise sees it.

Still sort of leaning on the desk, Haise walks around it to plunk down onto his knees beside Arima’s chair. His movements are somewhat awkward, like there is too much energy in his body for him to try moving gracefully.

“ _Arimaa_ ,” he whines, tracing what he hopes are teasing, distracting lines along Arima’s thigh, up his side, over his ribs, and down his arm. He struggles to keep his movements fluid as he physically buzzes with anticipation. He loops back around to Arima’s thigh, stroking it with his palm flat, his fingers moving farther inward and up.

“What kind of father let’s their child starve?” 

The pout on his face is audible. He runs a nail along Arima’s belt, changing direction when he reaches the buckle, now running his finger along the waistband, just barely pushing under it.

“I know you like it,” he says, lowering his voice. He can’t decide whether to guilt-trip Arima like a child or seduce him, so he settles for trying both.

His fingers now running along Arima’s arm again, he slowly takes Arima’s free hand in his own and massages it, gently pressing his thumb along the vein on his wrist and into his palm, up the length of his middle finger, then back down again.

“ _Please_ , Arima.” Haise can’t decide if that sounds like a childish whine or a seductive one, falling at an odd place somewhere in between. He places haphazard kisses on Arima’s hand before licking from the inside of his wrist to the tip of his thumb. Arima feels his hot breath as he exhales against his skin, shivering slightly.

“ _I’m so hungry_.”

He runs his thumb along the line he just licked, applying a little pressure, then licks the the pad of Arima’s thumb again before taking the tip into his mouth. He pulls his mouth away without sucking until the digit leaves his lips with a wet, lewd-sounding pop.

Arima just barely shifts in his seat and Haise sees his eyes peek down discreetly. Good.

“ _Please feed me, Arima_ ,” he whines again, his voice quiet and shaking and a little breathless. He sucks Arima’s thumb, this time taking more of it, and presses his tongue against it as he draws back.

Arima yanks his hand away and clenches his fist. In a brisk motion, he turns to face Haise and stands up, hands immediately working to unbuckle his belt.

“Did you lock the door?”

“Of course I locked the door,” Haise responds with a little grin and a gulp, his mouth watering.

He waits impatiently, wriggling a little where he sits on his knees until finally Arima positions his cock at Haise’s lips.

Haise wastes absolutely no time, immediately reaching out to hold and stroke it with both hands, greedily licking and sucking the tip, placing sloppy kisses along the shaft.

“You want me to feed you?” Arima looks down at him and brushes the hair out of his eyes, petting it and running his fingers through it affectionately. “Or you want to feed yourself?”

Haise brings a hand down to palm himself through his pants, fumbling with the belt buckle as he unfastens it so he can touch himself directly.

“ _nnnh_ feed - me,” he says breathlessly, drooling a bit as he licks Arima, “ _feed me_.”

Arima gently holds Haise’s chin as he guides his cock in.

“You are hungry, aren’t you?” he says, wiping the drool off with his thumb. He moves his hand to the back of Haise’s head, holding him as he pushes all the way in.

“Aren’t you, Haise?”

He pulls Haise’s hair downward, silently communicating “look at me.” And Haise does. He attempts an “mmhm” around Arima’s dick, his eyes already cloudy from the strain on his throat, one of them turned black and red. The pupil on his other eye is dilated so much that only a thin ring of gray is visible around it.

Arima fucks his mouth slowly and Haise moans, tasting the precum leak onto the back of his tongue. He pushes in deep every time, and soon the tears trickle from Haise’s eyes as he closes them, a content look on his face. For all the squirming and jitteriness earlier, now his movements are lazy, relaxed. One hand still strokes himself slowly, while the other roams over Arima’s body--his hips, his thighs, stomach, calves--with no real purpose. He looks like the prize in his mouth is the only thing keeping him from melting into the floor.

Arima tilts his head as he looks at him, panting softly. He continues to affectionately pet his hair. He touches his face softly, his thumbs brushing over the the paths of the tears. Haise groans when Arima hits the back of his throat, pressing his tongue up and swallowing.

“ _Haise - uhnn_ \- that’s good. Just- just like that.”

He holds Haise’s hair a little tighter, making sure not to hurt him. He pulls out almost all the way before pushing back in slowly.

“You know, _hhh_ \- I really - shouldn’t be this nice to you-” His words are punctuated by sharp exhales and low groans every time he pushes back into Haise’s hot, wet mouth. “- and spoil you - every time you c- _nnnh_ come in here and whine.”

Haise doesn’t look up or seem to take him seriously at all, voicing a happy, distracted “ _mmhm_ ” around Arima’s dick, tears still leaking lazily out of the corners of his eyes.

“Are you gonna be good from now on?” Arima asks, pushing Haise’s hair away from his damp forehead.

Haise shudders, thrusting slowly into his hand. He moans out a high pitched “mmm” in response.

Unsatisfied with that, Arima pushes his cock to the back of Haise’s throat again.

“Answer me properly, Haise.”

This time, Haise looks up at him and nods just barely, forcing out an “mhm!” before swallowing again.

Arima shuts his eyes, resuming his previous pace for a few seconds before speeding up slightly. He sighs and reaches out to lay a hand on the desk, his nails scraping against the wood as he curls his fingers into a fist.

“Good. Good. That’s - good.”

Haise can tell he’s close, so he makes an extra effort to hollow out his cheeks and swirl his tongue around the head of Arima’s cock when he can. Even when he’s right at the edge, Arima never loses control and thrusts too roughly. When he comes, Haise pulls back so it doesn’t go right down his throat; He wants to taste it on his tongue.

He moans sweetly, swallowing it down and coming into his own hand soon after. He languidly licks and mouths the tip to make sure no drop is wasted. When he’s satisfied, he plops down on the floor, boneless, and wipes his mouth with the back of his clean hand.

Arima sits back in his chair and offers him a tissue before fixing up his pants. He looks down at Haise with a small smirk on his face. His hair is a mess. His cheeks are still flushed and marked with tear tracks. He watches the come drip off his hand and onto the floor before lazily wiping it off, leaning heavily against the desk where he collapsed. Arima is somehow certain there’s work he was supposed to be doing this whole time.

“So spoiled,” he chides.

**Author's Note:**

> :D
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/delightedgurgle)
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://mutsukis-tiny-bangs.tumblr.com/)


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